<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the office and other mind horrors by winchestered_again</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129749">the office and other mind horrors</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestered_again/pseuds/winchestered_again'>winchestered_again</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Stanley Parable</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, btw no prior knowledge of the game needed to read :), sorry stan but this isn't a fix-it :(</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:20:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchestered_again/pseuds/winchestered_again</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(working title)</p><p>Richie Tozier finds himself looking into the three blinding bulbs that he knew to be the deadlights.</p><p>Something tells him something about this experience was not going to be good (or like before).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak &amp; Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>fun fact: i've never actually seen the entirety of chapter two so I will take a couple of liberties here </p><p>also expect random updates bc of my schedule and the fact my laptop is shit :)</p><p>occasional updates on my tumblr: i-write-or-something</p><p>the beginning is short but I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He can feel the almost comforting weight of the rock as he picks it up, and the cool, rough surface feels oddly right in his hand. It means something; he knows that in the same way he knows his own name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie then staggers forward, eyes wide and locked onto the towering shadow of the spider hanging over two of the others, Ben and Bev nowhere in sight. His empty hand forms a fist as anger floods his veins alongside the adrenaline that he's felt since he's stepped foot into the cistern. The recent memory of the three doors play in his head; the closet, his closet, and the pomeranian. Eddie's face, too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He's already concluded that he hates that expression on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Fuckface!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seven faces turn to look at him, and he can feel Eddie standing behind him, and he's hissing, "What are you-" before he gets cut off. Bill and Mike's responses are also lost in the sound of Richie finishing the taunt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You want to play truth or dare?" He can feel the incredulous gazes of the other five losers, but he isn't backing down from this. He can't back down from this, not when he's too far in, and Pennywise is giving him a look that he interprets as: </span>
  <em><span>do it, I </span>dare<span> you. </span></em>
  <span>And getting him away from the others was imperative at the moment, any longer, and he doubted that they wouldn't lose another person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Here's a truth!" The loud steps of the monster get closer, and the anger just behind his skin simmers. "You're a Sloppy Bitch!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The effect of the words is immediate, and it stops. But too late does Richie realize that the action meant trouble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Yipee ki yay motherfu-!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling of the rock in his hand disappears, and air rushes out of his lungs as white invades his vision, and in his winded state, the next fully conscious thought that passes through his head is when he realizes he's in the deadlights. Which, to be completely honest here, he had totally forgotten that was a card in its hand. That card had become one of those Uno cards that you kept in your pocket until the right turn, catching every other player off-guard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next absolutely needed thought is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>explodes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. chapter one teaser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Richie lands in the game.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>come request a oneshot at my twitter @mlm_eddie_k or my tumblr, nonbinaryeddiekaspbrak!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The camera clicks on, and for a long moment, everything feels entirely fake, feels slow. It feels like swimming in syrup with weights tied around his ankles, dragging him away from the surface. Hands are appearing from the watery abyss, grabbing his arms, his waist, his legs, anything that they can reach, just so they can pull him farther into obscure depths. They rip him from the air, from the light, from everything he knew, just to squish him back into some kind of mold. It’s small and big at once, every part of his body too large to fit, so they begin pushing him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every push brought him farther away from the lights spinning above him, from his body, from his friends. From Eddie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phantom tugs became painful then, his soul being forcefully ripped from his body like a shirt ripped by the seams, like ripping off wax tape, all of his senses going haywire. The wayward thought of</span>
  <em>
    <span> was this supposed to happen</span>
  </em>
  <span> passes through his head, but it leaves just as quickly as the hands that let him fall down-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>down-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>           down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A horrible sense of wrongness impales him as his limbs hit something solid. Every part of his body has a pins-and-needles feeling, and his ears are ringing, and nothing in front of his face is making any sense at all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Disoriented, he tries to stand, his arm reaching up to grasp the desk to help him gain some sense of balance, but it only serves to help him pitch forward, like a lever, and he goes back down to the carpeted floor. A frustrated grunt sounds through the silent room, startling him for a moment as his hearing returns. He grabs the edge of the desk again, much more careful this time as the ringing finally fades from his ears. He wobbles, but his traitorous legs hold him up much better this time. Unfortunately, everything is still blurry as hell, so his hands roam the top of the desk haphazardly until they come in contact with the frames of his glasses. Confusion rises to the top of the cocktail of emotions in his head until it is replaced by curiosity at his surroundings.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>